Unconquered Hearts and the Wills they Play with
by Aurora Magician
Summary: CH 7 UP&CH1 replaced. Starts HP 5th year. How can the residents of Gatewood House help the Wizarding community when they are so despised by so many? And why ARE they despised? New NON-MS chars join the fight against Voldie. SSOC, RLOC, SBOC, RWHG, HPGW
1. Default Chapter

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter and Company are not mine: they are the product and property of one J.K. Rowling.  A big round of applause, folks—she's got one hell of an imagination and determination for life, eh?  Yah-hoo!

SUMMARY: A new character enters the scene as Harry's final three years at Hogwarts begin.  She and her Family cause and contain chaos as they assist the Hogwarts Crew in fighting Voldemort.  They raise quite a few eyebrows, sicken a few stomachs... and conquer a few hearts along the way.   SS/OC, HP/GW, RW/HG, RL/OC, SB/OC, AD/MM, OW/OC and lots more, folks.  J 

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is stewing around in my brain; I am not sure where it's all going to go, so this may take a while to write.  Again, I am using my beloved Sarah Claudia Hawkins and Gatewood House, only this time, we're in England.  I've changed a few names, too; but otherwise, the situation at my favorite Victorian Painted Lady house is the same.  Feedback is APPRECIATED and I do respond to emails!  It's what keeps me writing, folks!  Flamers who are unprofessional and unconstructive will have their flames spoon-fed back to them.  READ: if you flame, please give CONSTRUCTIVE criticism.  PLAY NICELY AND I WILL BE NICE BACK.  Dig?  Cool.  ON WITH THE SHOW!

P.S. I am basing many of the HP chars on drawings done by LMR Join the group and see the pictures... they're amazing, folks, I SWEAR.

            GATEWOOD HOUSE, 9AM on a Monday morning in early June of 1999.

'Dear God,' she thought, 'why does it always have to be _me_?'  Sighing heavily, the petite red-head trudged back into the sprawling Victorian Painted Lady house known to family and friends as simply "Gatewood House".  Her steps were ever so slightly uneven, as though she were not _quite_ limping.  Her eyes, currently hazel and swiftly turning mud-brown, perused the piece of parchment a good friend had just sent her.  She bumped into a suit of armor that stood at attention in the foyer, muttering an explicative distractedly under her breath.  Irritably she tucked fly-away strands of unruly vivid red hair back from her face.  Most of her bright sunset masses were piled haphazardly atop and around her head, but pieces of it insisted on continually falling into her eyes.  She muttered another swear word a little louder this time as she walked into a wall while still reading the parchment.

            "You need another set of eyes," Nadia's voice came from vaguely in front of her as she entered the sunny kitchen of Gatewood House.  She waved her hand in a frustrated and distracted manner in what she assumed was the Nadia's direction, still reading, and was rewarded with a mug of very strong coffee.

            "What is it, Sarah?" another of her sisters—Magen, this time— asked, coming to stand over her shoulder as she sat down in a chair that was pulled out for her by what seem to be invisible hands. 

            "Trouble," she said in a firm and flat voice; she sipped her coffee, "Of the particularly nasty kind."  Sarah looked up from the parchment then, and met the gazes of the many individuals staring back at her.  Those of her six sisters were almost identical to her own face.

            "I'll pack some things," she said, setting down her coffee and turning to the newspaper, "And be setting off in a bit." 

            "Where will you be going?"  That was Gabriel.  'Good old Gabriel,' Sarah thought with amusement, 'He always thinks of everything that Nadia doesn't... which usually isn't much.'

            "Away for a while," she said in drop-it sort of voice, "I'm going to make a couple of stops along the way—Privet Drive, The Burrow, the Leaky Cauldron, Hogsmeade, the Ministry, couple of other places—but I should end up around Hogwarts in a couple of weeks."

            "In Sarah-time, that means at least a month—if not two or three," said Magen dryly, knowing her sister's way of doing things. 

            Sarah glanced up when Saskia snorted, but she had her back to the table and was doing dishes.  The radio popped on quietly, with no-one touching it, and began playing _God Help the Outcasts_ by Bette Midler.  'God help us ALL,' Sarah thought fervently to herself.  Saskia seemed to echo her thoughts, as usual:

            "God help the outcasts, she says," said Saskia, her cropped dark red hair swinging a little, "God help us ALL, I say.  Jeez—everyone's a whiner!"

            "I'm leaving after breakfast," Sarah continued as though nothing had been said, "I'll try to keep in touch as much as possible—after all, we want to avoid what happened _last_ time whenever we can.  While I'm gone, I want you to remain in contact the Weasley and Granger families, and keep an eye or two on Number Four Privet Drive.  Notify the old gang, and get 'em all back together again.  Let me know the _second_ something happens.  Oh—and be prepared for sudden company," she paused to gulp her coffee, "In fact, be prepared for _anything_.  We don't want to repeat what we don't have to... surprises can be nasty as well as wonderful."

            "**Tell** me about it!" Nadia exclaimed.  Sarah just looked at her.  Nadia, sensing that Sarah was staring at her, turned and met her penetrating gaze.  Running a hand over her out-to-there pregnant belly, Nadia raised an eyebrow.  Sarah went back to her newspaper and breakfast with a slight shake of her head.

            MEANWHILE, AT #4 PRIVET DRIVE...

Number Four Privet Drive seemed like a perfectly normal house.  It was a gray-sided, smallish, cookie-cutter house straight out of the fifties, complete with a white picket fence.  There was a one-car garage that had been attached to the house in the seventies, and a white porch large enough accommodate three chairs and a flower pot comfortably.  The backyard was reasonably sized—in a large city, say, London, it would seem huge—and at the very edge of it stood a small, stall-like wooden shed hidden behind a large tree.  A low stone fence edged the yard in a perfectly square formation.  All in all, it seemed like a perfectly normal house with a perfectly normal—if a trifle snobbish—family within.

            It only SEEMED that way.

            If you looked closely, you could see that there were bars on windows of the east-side bedroom, scorch-marks in a remarkable lightning shape hidden behind the rosebush (hence it's presence), only three chairs on the porch when four resided within, and a section of the east-side bedroom walls had been meticulously repaired.  And if you observed very carefully... you could catch the comings and goings of at least four or five different owls at night, fluttering franticly at the barred windows of the east-side bedroom.  And if you watched very, very closely, you could see the face of a sad and earnest boy of sixteen peering anxiously out of those windows at odd times of the day.

            Harry Potter was being punished again.  And yet again, he had done absolutely nothing wrong.  Only this time, it felt different to him.  This time felt... funny; like there was more to come, and it would be worse—much worse—than what he was enduring now. 

            For three weeks, he was fed only once a day.  That meal (if you could call it that) consisted of one piece of stale bread and a small glass of warm water.  He was allowed out once a day, in order to brush his teeth and cleanse himself.  Other than that, the only thing he could do was to pray that somehow, somebody could get him out. 

            The last time something like this had happened Ron and the Weasley twins were able to break him out.  But this time, the Dursleys had taken precautions, and had the entire house rigged with a security system.  They had gotten it installed while he was away in his fifth year— too preoccupied with school, homework, Voldemort, and another face-off with Peter "Wormtail" Pettigrew that had left him in the Hospital Wing for two weeks—to keep an eye on Privet Drive.  One of the first things he had done when he noticed the changes was to send both Ron and Hermione letters warning them of the new system.  They had both made it clear that they were thinking of a way to get him out. 

             The letter to his Godfather had been the hardest of all to write.  While Harry's "family" still shivered at the thought of Sirius Black, it didn't stop them from forbidding him to leave the house.  Even when Sirius replied to Harry—even when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley showed up at the doorstep and offered to take Harry with them for the whole summer— it only hardened their resolve to keep him away from all those "freaks".    

The Dursleys made it clear they intended to keep him locked up in the house or supervised doing hard labor outside, and took every opportunity to treat him horribly.  Uncle Vernon made sure he smacked Harry upside the head at least once a day, and Aunt Petunia used whatever cooking utensil she had in her hand to hit him on the butt or the back whenever she felt like it.  Dudley ('That great, big, hulking moron!' Harry thought furiously) always did something to ruin half the work that Harry did.  If Harry had to paint the shed, Dudley would break the ladder or grab his fat friends and smear dirt over all of his hard work.  Once, when Harry was cooking supper, Dudley snuck up behind him and tripped him.  Harry's jaw had hit the edge of the stove, and he burned his hand. 

After that episode, he had tried to contact Dumbledore.  He even tried contacting Madame Hooch and Professor McGonagall, but to no avail.  Every one of them had told him to sit tight, because they had their hands full trying to find a leak in the Ministry.  None of them had listened to him; not one of them had even tried to pretend that they were too concerned with his well-being.  And while Dumbledore had mentioned something about a spell on the house in his letter, Harry had seen nothing that convinced him that he was as protected as they obviously thought he was.  All he could do in the end was pray that somehow one of his friends could help him.

He was jolted out of his miserable considerations when the locks on his door were undone.  The door creaked open as Dudley and Uncle Vernon entered.  Dudley was wearing a grin that would've made Professor Snape proud while Uncle Vernon scowled deeply.  In his hands, Vernon Dursley carried a baseball bat.  Dudley hitched his pants over his enormous bottom. 

'Oh, shit,' thought Harry, 'this can NOT be good.'  His male relatives advanced upon him; there was no chance for escape.  'I _knew_ something like this was going to happen!' Harry thought, torn between anger and despair and fear, 'It was only a matter of time.  And they didn't believe me!'

Vernon struck the first blow.

AN HOUR LATER, AT GATEWOOD HOUSE

Choosing to appear more inconspicuous, Sarah chose to drive to the Burrow instead of Apparating or Floo Powder.  She loaded her motorcycle on the truck bed, hooked the truck up to her black Stratus, and threw her bags haphazardly in with the bike.  She drove out of Gatewood House's large parking lot five minutes earlier than she had planned, and headed straight for the expressway that would take her most of the way to London.

Blaring Heather Nova over the stereo, the petite redhead sped down the roads of her travels, trying not to picture what could be happening while she ran around like a chicken with it's head cut off.  She concentrated on the pavement, music, and lack of traffic so hard she felt pressure building up behind her eyes.  Smiling wryly to herself, she gave her legs a cursory pat, and was satisfied that her pistols were safely secure in their holsters. 

She let the windows down, letting the wind whip her hair around, rather than suffer the dry recycling of Air Conditioning.  She had a bad feeling about this—she wasn't sure of anything right now.  All she had was the queasiness in her stomach when she saw the parchment the Great Horned Owl had dropped at her feet this morning.  It currently rested on the passenger seat, fluttering slightly in the wind.  Neat, flowing script spelled itself out in purple ink so dark it was almost black.  She reached out and took the parchment in her hand, trying to get a premonition, flashback, answer... something out of it.  Once again, she perused the letter:

_"Dearest Sarah,_

_I know that generally, the world asks too much of those residing at Gatewood House.  I also know that you think of friends as family, and that family is held together and protected at ALL costs.  Gatewood House is not merely a place, it is a people—a people borne wholly of love and unity.  Together you stand, together you fall... whether you are home or not._

_Home... it is such a powerful word.  One that I would crave to know first-hand... but at the moment, that is only possible in degrees.  The truth and love and pureness contained and nourished and spread by those of Gatewood House would erase the suffering of the world._

_That said, I need to ask you a favor... and give you a warming._

_THE FAVOR: Please rescue my brother's best friend, one Harry Potter.  His relatives have him locked up, and this time there is a new security system, and it is impossible to rescue him like Fred, George, and Ron did a few years ago.  I don't like this, Sarah; I think that there is more going on there than just too many chores, hard labor, and being locked up.  Mum and Dad even went to his house personally to try and reason with the Dursleys, but to no avail.  Harry said in his last letter that he had tried to contact Hogwarts, but that nobody could help him.  They're not listening!  This is serious!  It HAS to stop!  Oh, Sassy... I am so afraid for him!  I... care for him, like Moira once cared for Andrew.  Oh, gods, Sarah, what do I do?  How can I just sit by and not help?  I had to do something... I hope that you understand, and give me a reply.  You know I wouldn't normally ask you to help, because eventually Fred, George, and Ron would put their thumbs on SOMETHING—but this doesn't feel right.  Something is WRONG, Sass; very wrong.  Can you at least take a peek in on Number __Four Privet Drive__ for me?  Just to let me know... know that he's okay.  That this feeling is just... well, you know what I mean._

_Okay, now for the WARNING: There is a leak in the Ministry.  Fudge is still preaching that there is no Voldemort, but we know better, don't we?  I shudder to think of the last time... gods that was... ugh.  Father, Headmaster Dumbledore, Sirius Black, and several others are trying to deal with it... but they've got their hands full.  I don't think they'll catch him/her before it's too late.  The calvary always does come late, doesn't it?  So please, please be careful—all of you!  Tell the others, pass it on; just please, be CAREFUL... they're everywhere, as the saying goes._

_All my Love,_

_Nia_

Sarah sped up more as she entered the expressway.  'I hope that Harry can wait until after London; there is too much at stake here for me not to be prepared.  Nia's right—he has to get out of there ASAP—but I have to be sure that I can get him out under ANY circumstance.  So, consequently, that means London comes first.  After that I'll get Harry,' she thought, 'hang in there, baby—I'm coming!'

MEANWHILE, AT HOGWARTS...

Severus Snape was NOT having a good day.  He had been awakened at five in the goddamn morning by his Dark Mark burning up his arm, and had spent the better part of an hour trying to sneak away from Hogwarts.  When he had finally managed to arrive at the Death Eater meeting, Voldemort had been in a very bad mood.

Now, Severus could handle Voldemort in a frustrated mood.  He could handle the Dark Lord in an annoyed mood.  Hell—he could even handle the bastard in a bad mood... but a VERY bad mood.... 'I feel like _shit_,' he thought through the pain. 

The Dark Lord Voldemort had NOT been pleased by Severus's apparent lack of information on Dumbledore's comings and goings.  Nor was he too impressed when Severus had, once again, failed to provide him with his latest potion request... and being late to boot hadn't helped much either. 

'At least I was able to keep my head this time when he hit me with the Cruciatus,' he thought dryly, 'instead of accidentally spouting a little tid-bit of information.  Gods, I thought Minerva was going to kill me when I told her that Voldemort knew that we knew he had a spy in the Ministry.'  He tried to sit up—he had been lying prone on the floor of the Forbidden Forest for some time now—and felt an instant and sudden increase of pain shoot throughout his lanky body.  He abandoned his attempt to sit up with disgust.  'When I was younger, I could shake off curses like they were flimsy cloth,' he muttered an explicative out loud.  Damn—even thinking hurt.  This would NOT do.

Heaving a sigh—which caused him more pain—he gathered his resolution, steeled himself for the pain, and MADE himself sit up.

He only just managed to bite back a scream into a whimper.

'I am _defiantly_ getting too old for this shit,' he thought dazedly.

"Severus?"  'Who the hell could that be?' he thought.

"Severus, are you alright?"  Severus felt his eyes flutter open in a flurry of pain.  What he saw made him groan: Sirius Black, wanted man and illegal Animagus, was standing over him with a look of amused concern on his face.  'Oh, _goody_,' he thought angrily.  Good... anger was good; anger gave him strength to combat his condition.

"Do I bloody LOOK alright, Black?"  Severus expected a sharp retort; he expected to be left where he was.  He expected anything but what Black did next:

"Well then, let's get you to Madame Pomfrey.  Do you think you can stand if I help you?" 

Severus blinked several times, but Black was still standing above him every time he re-opened his aching eyes.  Hurting too much to care—if, indeed, he had cared in the first place—Severus braced himself to be pulled to his feet.  He extended a hand weakly, shaking.  Black silently took it, and with amazing gentleness, lifted Severus to his feet.  Too astonished and full of pain to react, Severus Snape allowed himself to be aided by Sirius Black for the first time ever.

Trouble was, both of them knew it probably wouldn't be the last.

SIX HOURS LATER, FOUR O'CLOCK PM, LONDON

After several phone calls and traipsing around the city of London like a native, Sarah finally entered her hotel to check into her rooms.  It wasn't that she couldn't find the grand-scale, upper-class place; she'd had errands to run and favors to call in.  Fortunately, once most of her people had heard what she was about, most of them came through for her.  A select few (old friends) had even given her freebies, which had been a real blessing, considering some of what she was buying.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon, and her day wasn't even halfway over yet.  Throwing her bags haphazardly on the bed, Sarah started easing out of her cloths.  Tight jeans, undergarments, white cotton tank, jean jacket, holsters, scabbard, and some other smaller weapons slid to the floor.  She didn't bother to pick them up as she unzipped a bag and took out shower stuff, heading for the bathroom. 

The shower felt good.  She started out as hot as she could get the water to go, and used shower gel that smelled like men's cologne.  'It's as close as I'm gonna get to the real thing anyway,' she thought dryly.  Next, she washed her long hair.  Then she turned the water as cold as possible, and stood under the hard spray for a few moments.  She warmed it up to lukewarm, and turned it off. 

She dried off, wrapped herself in the huge towel she'd brought, and sat down on the bed.  She re-read Nia's letter as she attempted to comb out the tangles her shower had bestowed upon her.  Her cell phone went off.

It was Nadia, checking up on her.  Talking swiftly and directly, Sarah cut the connection five minutes later.  Reaching for the bag that held her pen and paper, she was suddenly hit with a force that was alarming and calming all at once.  She felt a massive pressure on her chest and one building up behind her eyes, and it exploded into a world of a different consciousness:

FLASH

A young boy with black hair and an earnest face with a small scar in the center of his forehead being struck repeatedly by a fat man and an absolutely _massive_ blonde boy.  They were enjoying his screams, and laughed when a bone snapped.   But only if she....

FLASH

That same boy throwing up blood.  But only if she....

FLASH

The boy hooked up to IV's, people whispering around him... a redheaded boy, Ron, she recognized, and Nia, trying to elbow a way in to see the boy... doctors talking about tests... doctors talking about institutions, and the same fat man and huge boy nodding.  But that would only happen if....

FLASH

................

FLASH

The visions sped across her mind too fast to calculate.  But before her fingertips met the synthetic fabric of the bag with her pen and paper in it, she had seen them all.  She paused, hand reaching out and suspended in air, thinking.  What should she do?  Which path would be the most efficient?  Which path would help the best?

In a split second, she had made up her mind.  She would finish London shopping tomorrow, and have the rest shipped out.  Then she was moving out.

Little Whining was overdue for a visit once again.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Don't you all hate these cliffhangers?  I hate 'em too, and I actually write them!  Ack, well.  NEways... FEEDBACK IS DESIRABLE, AND I DO RESPOND TO EMAIL.  Just if you email, please put "fanfiction" in the subject heading so I don't delete you.  Thanx. 

So, where am I going with all of this?  Well, let's wait and see.   You already know that there will be three OFC's that take over the hearts of Snape, Remus, and Sirius.  Got any ideas who they should be?  I'll give you a hint: Sarah is definitely one of them, and I think maybe Nadia too.  What's your opinion?  Tell me!  Suggestions?  R/R is a great way to do that.......

And its past one ack emma, so I am off to bed and dreams.  Thank you very much for taking the time to read this... AN's and all. 


	2. Gatewood to London to Hogwarts

GATEWOOD HOUSE, The next day (Tuesday) 12 PM in early June, 1999  
  
"Well, this oughta be interesting," Saskia set down the Muggle newspaper and slid it across the small kitchen table to Nadia and Gabriel. Magen peered over their shoulders.

 "Oh, _great_," Magen sighed. Gabriel shook his head.

"Idiots," he said, sipping his sixth cup of coffee that morning, "They'll never learn. I hope that Sassy knows what's coming her way."

 "I wonder," Nadia trailed off, biting her lower lip.

 "What?" Adrienne popped into the kitchen sleepily, yawning and plopping down next to Saskia. Nadia slid the paper towards her. She ran a hand through her short dark hair, but stopped when she read the article on the front page.

"Dear God," she remarked dryly, "What _will_ they think of next? They really don't expect people to actually _buy_ that load of crap, do they?"

 "Apparently so," Nadia said quietly. "Sarah's going to have a fit."

"Yes, Gabriel," said Magen, tossing her long black hair out of her face and standing up, "Thank you for pointing that out to us. I just hope that she's got enough supplies to take on a whole troop of Death Eaters."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry too much about that," Brian came into the kitchen, folding a copy of the same paper under his arm, "I heard that last bit. I don't think we should be too worried about our dear, psychotic little Sarah. Remember the _last_ time Death Eaters got in her way?"

 "Ah," said Saskia, "Aha. You're right, of course. I wonder how Fuck- up Fudge will deny this one."

 "Oh," replied Gabriel acidly, "He'll find a way to convince himself. He's so afraid of fighting--and going up against Voldemort at that--that he'll try anything to convince himself and the public that there's nothing wrong."

 "Eyeah... they don't call him 'Fuck-up' Fudge for nunthin'."

 "Guess so, Magen."

 "Somebody should warn the Prime Minister and the other world leaders," said Saskia, staring at the table.

"If Fudge don't take some action soon, I will," said Nadia, rising clumsily from the table and putting a hand on her protruding belly, "People deserve to be warned, no matter what kind of people they are!"

 "Here, here! Now, what is it that you're all talking about?"

"Glad to see you've joined the land of the living, Lady Bryn."

"You're just glad to see me wearing next to nothing," the tall beauty replied impishly as she strode into the room. She was clad in a T-shirt and underwear, minus socks, and her golden curls were in tangles.

"Ah, Lady, you wound me!" Brian clasped his hands to his heart in a dramatic gesture. The others chuckled.

"Here," said Adrienne, tossing the newspaper to Lady Bryn, "Read this."

There was silence as the fugitive royalty perused the Muggle newspaper.

"Lord in Heaven," she whispered after a few moments, "It is only because of what I saw her do to save me that has me convinced that Sarah can handle these Death Eaters," she spoke the term in disgust, "Trust in that. Our Sarah can handle herself quite, er, _admirably_ on the battlefield."

 "Sarah fights like a _psychotic machine_ on the battlefield," Saskia remarked dryly, rubbing her round belly, "But faced with something like this? Ooh, she's downright **scary**, the way she fights."

 There were some quiet few shudders in the silence that followed that remark. Lady Bryn shook her bowed head, her long golden-brown curls bouncing in the sunlight.  
  
LONDON, two hours later (noon)  
  
Sarah left her last stop for supplies, and picked up a newspaper on a whim. Her eyes narrowed as she read the Muggle's take on the latest Death Eater incident.

 _'Damn_,' she thought acidly, 'Maybe it wasn't a whim after all. I thought they'd wait a while longer. I _thought_ something didn't feel quite right this morning. I should've trusted my instincts. Alright then, Harry's next... but I have to get through those damn fool psychos first. Not that it'll be a problem... it's just that dealing with them will be quite, er, _messy_. Now I'll have to call in some clean-up crews. Damn, and that's **more** time off my ass!' Well, best get to it then.

She sighed, and brushed fly-away hair irritably away from her face. Her vivid hair responded by letting more strands escape into her vision. She ignored it, concentrating on where she felt the disturbances radiating from. Being in London, with thousands of people around her, many of them less than trustworthy, pinpointing the direction was hard. After standing still for a while, she calmly began walking in a half-daze towards the West.

 A few paces later, she was satisfied that the threat lay in the West part of London. Right in her path_... Too bad for them_. Gathering her energy as she went, Sarah returned to her truck and threw the last of the supplies in the bed. She threw the Muggle newspaper on the floor of the passenger side, and absently swept up the items lying on the seat. Stowing them in the bed of the truck along with the supplies, she climbed into the driver's seat and started the truck. Popping in a Figgy Duff CD, she sped off towards the West end of London and towards Little Whining.

She left herself unbuckled, anticipating a fight.   
  
HOGWARTS, same time and day, Severus's Chambers  
  
If any of the students were to have seen Professor Severus Snape in the state he was in, none of them--save the bratlings who had witnessed his torture--none of them would have recognized him. His face was bruised and paler than usual where it wasn't a splotchy purplish gray. His lower lip was cracked, and he held a shot glass full of whiskey in one hand. The other hand was lightly wrapped in a bandage.

The hand that held the shot of whisky was shaking.

 But none of the contents of the shot glass spilt as he downed it in one, smooth toss of the head. Sighing as the whisky burned in his throat, warming his cold body, Severus felt his limbs tingle slightly back to life. 'Poppy's numbing potion is wearing off,' he thought wearily, 'I shall have to make her some more. Damn, but that's more time off my ass.'

 Blearily, fumbling slightly, Severus rose from his easy chair and headed towards his private bath. 'Shower,' he thought, focusing his frazzled brain as much as it would allow him to, 'A hot shower. And then bed. Sleep-yes, sleep is good... but shower first. Contrary to what many students believe, I do cleanse myself... and take great pleasure in being clean. Damn genetics for oily skin and hair!'

 He made it to the bath without incident.

He stripped himself methodically, letting his cloths fall to the floor to be picked up later. Stepping into the shower, he turned the water as hot as he could stand it, letting the hard spray massage his tense muscles. His skin tingled again as the droplets of water made contact with his pale skin. Some small piece of vanity let him acknowledge that although he was unnaturally and unattractively pale, he did have the body of man who played sports. He allowed himself a small grin at the fact that although he was in his thirties, he still could play Quidditch... and still did-every other night, when no one could see him.

 When he was thoroughly warmed, his ritual began. He suddenly reached out and turned the water as cold as it could go. Considering that he was in a castle and in a dungeon, the water turned VERY cold. He stood there, under the freezing spray, and willed his body to remain so. Two minutes later, he increased the water temperature until it was back to scalding hot. He waited a moment, and then cooled the water down gradually, until it was only lukewarm.

 Shutting the shower off completely, he wrapped himself in a warm towel and dried himself off. Deciding against nightclothes, Severus allowed himself to sigh as he slid underneath his heavy covers. His last thoughts before sleep came to claim him were thus: 'Yea gods I am getting too old to play lackey. Damn, but I wish there was somebody to share my bed... I wonder what Potter is doing right now... a sensible woman, who...' Sleep came then, washing over him like he was imagining the woman doing... the difference was that the sleep brought him oblivion, and the woman would bring him life.   
  
A/N: Okay, I know that this is short and a loooong time in coming... but please understand that college life has a way of interfering! I promise that I haven't stopped writing, but only less frequently. I'll try to have more up in a few weeks, but NO promises. Maybe something else I've written will come first... it's however my muses decide to let me go about it. As par the course, please please PLEASE R/R!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And no flamers, please. PROFESSIONAL criticism, thank you very much. Any ideas or suggestions, post 'em and I'll love you forever!


	3. Little Whining to on the Road to Hogwart...

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi all! How has it been going? I'm stuck in college with finals and crap, so I've managed to take a break and get this up for you. PLEASE REVIEW???!!! WARNING: SLIGHTLY graphic descriptions of abuse and injuries. You've been warned.  
  
LITTLE WHINING, about five O'clock at night that Tuesday, Number Four Privet Drive:  
  
Sarah pulled her now dented, scratched, and scorched red truck up to the curb of Privet Drive. A sudden surge of prudence, perhaps brought on by a raging headache, caused her to park on the opposite side of the street than Number Four Privet Drive. It was shadier there, and she had a better and more inconspicuous view of the fifties-style, gray-sided house. She sported a few injuries; namely a cut above her right eyebrow, claw-marks on her arms, and some bruised ribs. Her nose had just a trickle of old blood from it, and her bottom lip was slightly swollen. Her head ached due a blow from a Death Eater with a mean left hook, and also partly to the fact that she had banged it off of her windshield in an attempt to run over a Dementor. Fortunately, she had been successful... after the second try. 'Damn stubborn half-dead idiots have no idea when to _stay_ **completely** dead!' she thought acidly. Her mass of coppery-red hair glinted in the sunlight.  

She turned her attention to Number Four Privet Drive. 'I wonder how long I...' she left her thought unfinished as a massive pressure in her chest warned her of on-coming visions:

 FLASH

If she went in now, she could stop.... but if she did she also sacrificed...

 FLASH

If she waited even five minutes, it might be too late for.... but not for... but then she would have to seek vengeance...

FLASH

 Nighttime would bring unwanted visitors... but a better opportunity to...   
  
A succession of innumerable options flashed before her burning eyes and aching head. In her mind's eye, she saw her world as only the gifted- cursed can... and chose her doings carefully. Frustrated with her choices, Sarah angrily threw open her door and hopped out, only just catching her stumble before it could happen. With slightly uneven steps, she stormed up to the front door of Number Four Privet Drive. Irritably, she jammed fly- away red strands of hair back into place.

Belatedly, she realized she still had her crowbar in her hand. 'Ah,' she thought solemnly and detachedly, 'so that is how it is to be then.' She held it tighter, but kept it still by her side. She pounded on the door with her other fist. She pounded for several minutes before an irritated Petunia Dursley finally flung the door wide in her haste and frustration. She caught her first glimpse of Sarah, and paled.

A split second later, Sarah shoved the stiff and staring woman unceremoniously out of her way as she marched determinedly into the house. She could hear Petunia sputtering back to life behind her as she continued through the house, calling Harry's name.

"You wretched... uh, uh, uh..." Petunia couldn't think straight.

"Where is Harry?" Sarah whirled around and pierced the horse-faced beastling with a glare she knew always frightened Petunia more than her mere presence in a room did. Petunia spouted a few more "ums" before she screeched for Vernon Dursley, and then continued "um"-ing.

 "I'll say this again," Sarah ground out, "Where. Is. Harry. NOW."

"I don't have to tell you anything you... you... you... um, um, um,..."

"You are very articulate, Petty."

"You... you... um, um... abnormality!"

Sarah stood with her hip cocked and her head tilted, giving Petunia a dead stare. She took out her sunglasses, and put them on.

"Ow. Ooh. You stun me badly. HARRY!" She heard shuffling overhead, and then loud thumping as Vernon Dursley thundered down the stairs as fast as his fat legs could take him. He knew his wife's voice--and she only sounded like that when _she_ was in the room. Sarah rounded on him instantly.

"WHERE IS HARRY. You will produce him NOW," she growled. Losing patience, losing time, Sarah had a sinking knowledge that she knew where Harry was... and what condition he would be in.

 Vernon Dursley sprayed spit everywhere in his inelegant attempts at an answer for Sarah. Throwing caution to the winds--'Damn you Albus, you should have stopped this! And not left me to deal with it!'--Sarah gathered her growing inner storm of power, and breathed.

"Never mind," she clipped, and pushed past the blob-like body of Vernon and started up the stairs. She jumped nimbly and avoided him as he made a desperate swipe at her feet, wincing slightly as she landed and putting her hand to her bruised ribs.

 Instincts and something else that blossomed back to life inside of her brought her to Harry's door. She breathed deeply, holding her side, and turned the knob.

She let out what sounded like a small shriek to the occupants of Number Four Privet Drive... but was barely what she was capable of reaching.

 And flung herself at Dudley, who stood gaping in admiration for the petite redhead's body and presence, bringing the crowbar in her hand down on his raised arm. His arm was poised to deliver another blow to the small and crumpled form of Harry Potter; a blow he never got to deliver. Sarah knocked him flat, and made immediately for Harry's side.

 She scooped him up smoothly in her arms, gritting her teeth against the ache in her ribs. Holding Harry as if he was the most precious thing in the world, Sarah sent a silent string of epithets to Hogwarts and a silent string of prayers to whatever divine deity it was who had lead her there.

 She barely registered what happened to the house as she past through it upon returning to her truck. Her maternal part of her mind kept her distracted by Harry's condition and the need to get him as far away from the Dursleys as possible, while the tigress in her left wreckage in her wake. Shelves fell, the banisters splintered, and the door frames exploded. Petunia fainted, and the two males tried to hide behind each other in a pathetic jumble of blubbery arms and bodies.   
  
ON THE WAY FROM LITTLE WHINING TO GATEWOOD HOUSE, approx. one hour later (6 PM) in Sarah's truck.  
  
Sarah was more worried than she'd been in years. Her eyes were swirling brown and blue. She checked the temperature of the unconscious form of Harry Potter for the fifth time since leaving Number Four Privet Drive.

Her eyes turned to swirling dark and periwinkle blue as she felt his temperature increase yet again--he was burning up with fever, no doubt from infection in some of his injuries. She doubted he would make a fast recovery, assuming he was alive to recover by the time she got him home.

 Home for him would now be Gatewood House. She would not stand by and let Albus convince her to send him back to the Dursleys again. 'I'll be damned first! That old codger is getting a BIG piece of my mind when I get Harry stabilized!' she thought angrily. A few sparks of red flickered briefly but strongly amongst the blue of her eyes.

Beside her, Harry stirred in his death-like sleep. He murmured feverishly something about music. Sarah, catching hints of his mother, sighed deeply. Nodding her head as though in agreement with unheard voices, she popped in a CD and turned the volume down so it wasn't blasting. The sound of Celine Dion filled the truck.

Lily's sounds... Lily's music.

"I'm taking care of him now, Lily," Sarah spoke to the air, "I'm taking him home, where he belongs. He can't be with Sirius like you wanted, so now he comes with me. Just like you told me you wanted it. I'm sorry it took so long."

Harry sighed in his sleep, mumbling about heat. Sarah floored the gas pedal.

 By the time she reached Gatewood House, she'd managed to call ahead and arrange for others to have everything ready for Harry. Nadia, Magen, and Lady Bryn met them before Sarah had even managed to park the truck. Supporting his body as though their hands were a gurney, the four women carried Harry into the home. Brian, Saskia and Gabriel helped them get Harry onto the kitchen table then, while Adrienne woke the rest of the house.

People rushed around in a strange kind of ordered chaos, bringing medical supplies for Harry and preparing food and drink for the household. After a few hours of thorough medical work, Sarah ordered Harry to be taken to bed in her room. Lady Bryn took him from her arms before Sarah could protest, and made the journey herself:

"You stay here and take care of yourself. He's home now, where he belongs, and you need food and rest yourself. Not to mention a bit of stitching!" she called over her shoulder as she carried the sleeping Harry up the three flights of stairs to Sarah's room at the end of the hall. Sarah herself was forced to sit by Brian and Gabriel, who made sure she waited for and ate her food. Adrienne made Sarah's special tea then, and made her drink two mugs of it before she let Nadia tend to Sarah's wounds. There were very few, and minor--the bruised ribs were the worst, since not much could be done for them save rest, and Sarah was not big on rest.

 "I'm alright, I'm fine!" Sarah protested angrily when Saskia and Tori (another of her identical sisters) tried to get her to go to bed. She shoved off their hands, and gave them kisses and hugs in apology.

"I am going up to see Harry, then I'm off to the Burrow in the morning," she stated, grabbing a bottle of brandy from the wine cabinet before heading up the back staircase. It spiraled upwards, and branched off in small platforms at every floor.

There were three floors to Gatewood House, and Sarah had the last room on the left at the end of the hall on the third floor. Candles in their sconces lit up as she passed them on her way upward.

She tiptoed into her room, finding Lady Bryn kneeling at Harry's side on her bed. Sarah almost sighed at the gentleness in the touch that Lady Bryn used to stroke Harry's pitch-black hair... James's hair.

Sarah swallowed an unexpected lump in her throat, but smiled when Lady Bryn caught her gaze in the yellow lamplight. The fugitive royalty stood up, her golden curls sparking fabulously, and offered Sarah a small smile as she left. Sarah listened to her gentle foot-falls as she descended the back spiral staircase.

 She kept her gaze on the sixteen-year-old on her bed. He looked so young and helpless. His vulnerability reminded her sharply of when her brother Methuselah had come down with a raging pneumonia, and it had been up to her to tend to him. She herself had only been fourteen, but she was already showing magical potential. The image left her, and the memory of it left her shaking in her black leather boots.

Unsteadily, swiping a swig from the brandy bottle, Sarah made her way with uneven footsteps to her bed. Sighing, she lay down beside Harry, put her head on his shoulder gingerly, and laid a hand gently on his chest. She was careful to avoid his two broken ribs. Bruises marred his pale skin, and his bones were showing. Feeling the mother in her awaken, Sarah set the brandy on the nightstand after another healthy swig of it, and snuggled up tenderly to Harry, willing him to get better.

Her whole body willed Harry to get well... get better. She could feel it radiating from her skin; felt her body warm up and his cold one suck it in and absorb it like long-deprived of nutrition. She turned off the lamp reflexively with her mind, and the room glowed softly with the light of her healing will. Gradually, slowly, Harry's body began to warm. Sarah drifted off into a half-trance, half-sleeping state and didn't come out of it until the birds began to sing.   
  
HOGWARTS, the next day (Wednesday), in July of 1999, Severus's Chambers, 1a.m.

_She slides over him, skin against skin, her heart reflected in her eyes... eyes of purest and darkest violet. Her eyes are the most unique feature about her--sometimes glowing with the brightest amber to be found, sometimes burnished with browns and burgundies, other times raging fires of red. He loves her eyes. He loves her hair too. Her glorious, fire-shaming, brilliant red hair... the hair she lets down in cascades for him alone. ___

_Her roughly silken copper-red strands tickle his nose and slide over his chest, just as she is tickling his feet and sliding over his legs. Her hands, strong and elegant, glide up his legs and her eyes sparkle green with mischief. Her body lives up to her eyes: she kisses his neck, his chest; her piano-player hands working their magic on his manhood. She reaches for his face, stroking it; adoring it. She bends to bestow a soul-wrenching kiss as she settles herself on top.... _

Severus Snape awoke alone in his bed, and the silence that greeted him stole his breath. The coldness of the dungeons seeped into his bones, sucking the arousal and warmth from his body. He couldn't remember his dream, but he knew the dream too well to forget it.

 He always awoke from that dream so bloody damn alone.   
  
ON THE ROAD FROM GATEWOOD TO THE BURROW, that same Wed, Sarah's truck, about 1AM.  
  
She had decided to take the truck to the Burrow, not only to reduce Molly's embarrassment, but also for the simple reason that, for all intents and purposes (despite his obsession with and CONSTANT tampering), Arthur was a good mechanic. And with the infamous twins at his side he could have her truck back in reasonably nice shape within a day. Er, give or take.

She blasted the Goo-Goo Dolls through her stereo. "Long Way Down" cut its way through the air, just as she maneuvered her way viciously through traffic. She though of Harry, and called the house to check on him. Brian and Lady Bryn assured her that he was still sleeping, and that Nadia was currently lying down with him. That made her feel slightly better. Giving an understandably clipped good-bye to Tori, who had wrestled the phone away from Brian, she cut the connection.

Impatient with traffic, she went through maps in her head. 'It helps to have a photographic memory when it comes to geography,' she thought acidly, remembering terrain that she would rather leave well enough alone in her memory.

 Now decided, she turned sharply off the main drag and onto back country roads which bore no speed limits and winding gravel through- ways where she nearly hit some deer. Sarah swore heavily and creatively as she hit the brakes to avoid hitting the stupid animals. Sighing deeply, she shook her head before hitting the accelerator again after the dear had leapt out of harm's way.

"Dammit, watch where the hell yer goin'! Or next time you'll be Animagus flambé!" she yelled to no one in particular, "More time off my ass!" she muttered in afterthought, "Wonderful... simply wonderful. Wizards as friendly furry forest animals... what the hell will they think of next?"

 The back roads she knew so well aided her greatly in her journey. Glancing at the dashboard clock, she nodded in some small amount of pride that her calculations had been fairly accurate--she had, indeed, cut nearly three hours off of her journey in taking the route she had. She filed that bit of information away in her mind.

She fished around in her purse for an herbal cigarette (she made these nicotine-free cigs herself from an old family formula) and lit it. She took a semi-comforting drag, not once taking her eyes from the gravel one-lane she was negotiating. The road twisted and turned in an erratic manner, and it was bumpier than hell.

She cut off the Goo-Goo Dolls mid-song, and switched to an Orbital CD. Grateful for fewer words to distract her, she let the techno beat thrum through her system. Her chest vibrated with the bass, but the cigarette helped to ease the pain. Taking a longer drag this time, she hit a particularly nasty bump in the road and swore mildly.

 After much debate, she grabbed her cell phone off its perch on the dashboard and dialed Molly's number. There was no answer; the magically-run answering machine picked up instead. Sarah sighed, not sure if she was grateful for that as well, or not.

 "Molly, I'm coming over soon. Expect me when you see me," she said, and hung up. It was useless to say more; Molly would only worry herself to death over Harry before Sarah had a chance to get there and calm her down. Sarah sighed, and began to make a mental list of things to talk about and to be done.

 And sooner or later, she was going to give Dumbledore a piece of her mind... and she hoped he choked on it!   
  
HOGWARTS, 7:00 AM, Dumbledore's office, that same day.  
  
"I don't care, Dumbledore!" Sirius Black exclaimed angrily, "I don't want him living there anymore! Those Muggles are not his family, as far as I'm concerned!" Dumbledore sighed, and began to clean his glasses on his robes.

 "Calm yourself, Sirius," Remus Lupin said; placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, "Getting angry will not help us get Harry." Sirius sighed in perfect imitation of Dumbledore, and his shoulders sagged dejectedly. Remus's heart gave a sharp tug, and Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Sirius, I would once again remind you that it is not safe to bring Harry anywhere just yet," Albus said in a weary voice, "At least, not until we know where the leak in the Ministry is. Until then," he held up a withered hand to stop Sirius's comment, "Until then, it is not safe. I'm sorry, truly, I am. Oh, Severus, do come in."

The tension between Sirius Black and Severus Snape was almost palpable as the exhausted Potions Master entered the Headmaster's study. Sirius's dark chocolate brown eyes bore holes into Severus's black onyx ones. Both men looked away at the same time, leaving a thousand retorts and a hundred questions unsaid. Remus shifted slightly, uncomfortably, on the couch he was sharing with Sirius.

 "Headmaster," Severus nodded in his direction as he addressed his superior, and he sat down in a plush armchair on the other side of Remus and closer to Dumbledore. His face was still splotched slightly with bruises--he had run out of the potion that got rid of them. He sighed inwardly, realizing that it would--once again--fall to him to make more. As if he wasn't busy enough already!

"Severus," Dumbledore greeted him warmly, if tiredly, "Some tea?"

"No, thank you Albus."

'Nothing will warm my body this morning... or my soul. Not after that damn dream... that damned haunting, beautiful dream that I can never have,' he thought.

"You look... better, er, Severus," Remus ventured to say. The pale man draped constantly in black robes nodded curtly to him after a moment of hesitation.

"Thank you, Lupin," he said curtly, and turned his attention back to Albus. The old wizard nodded, and placed his spectacles back on his nose.   
  
"Thank you for coming, Severus," Dumbledore started, "I appreciate you coming so early, especially with your busy schedule. Sirius, Remus," he addressed the other two men, "We'll talk more later. Now, if you would be so kind, please do check on our contact list?"

"Of course, Albus," Remus said, pulling on a protesting Sirius Black and leaving the room. Severus let out a heavy sigh that coincided with the shutting of the door. Only then did he let his shoulders sag in weariness... that was his only concession to his tiredness, even in the presence of his one and only friend.

"What happened, old friend?" Albus Dumbledore asked quietly. Severus sighed again, this time in frustration, and didn't move or reply for several seconds.

"I think he knows, Albus," he said, "I think he knows that we're onto him somehow. He was... extra-vigorous in his... questioning of me." He didn't see the sad look that came into the old man's eyes, nor the resigned nod he gave.

 "Do you think he suspects you as a spy?"

"I'm almost positive. At the very least, he knows that my loyalties to him are... no longer what they used to be."

 "I see." There were several moments of silence. "I think I'll have that tea, Albus."

"Of course, old friend... would you like lemon as well?"   
  
A/N: So.... what'd you think? PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE review for me!!!!???? I live for that shit! Let me know if I make a boo-boo or if you like something or ANYTHING!!!! Would you like to see something happen? Email me and let me know!


	4. From the Burrow to Gatewood House to Hog...

meanwhile, THE BURROW

Sarah pulled her abused truck to a cluttering halt in the Burrow's driveway. Beside her, in all its clunky glory, stood the flying car that Harry and Ron had used in their second year. Nia had playfully dubbed it "Supercar" which infuriated and embarrassed Ron to no end. Sarah allowed herself to snicker quietly at the memory. The front door of the Burrow opened, and Molly came hustling across the lawn, her housedress fluttering about her stocking feet. Sarah's sculptured lips quirked at how the yellow-and-gray striped stockings contrasted humorously with the flowered dress pattern. She quickly gave this up when her lip split again, and she tasted blood in her mouth. Molly was fairly running to meet her, her wild rust-colored and gray- streaked hair flying crazily out behind her. Before she could take ten steps, Sarah was engulfed in a Molly-sized hug. It didn't take too much energy to keep a squeak of protest from spilling out of her mouth-too many years of hiding injuries had made it habit.

Sarah allowed herself to be led into through the front lawn and up the stoop. However, she looked up as she passed through the gate, and the drapes in Nia's bedroom suddenly closed. They swung for an instant, and then were still. Sighing almost imperceptibly, Sarah drew her gaze back to the front door. Molly didn't need to know.

After permitting Molly to fuss over her for a few minutes, Sarah gently rebuffed Molly's efforts to feed her more food. The rest of the family crept into the kitchen in ones and twos, Nia arriving last and most inconspicuously. Sarah frowned when she realized that the only recognition Nia's family gave her arrival was a brief comment from Molly to come to table sooner. After that, she was left alone. 'Interesting,' Sarah thought, 'very interesting... I'll have to observe this more carefully.' But then she made eye contact with Nia, and the silent communion between the two women was mutually understood. They would talk at night, when all was quiet and such things could be said without causing panic or suspicion.  
  
Over lunch Sarah made small talk. She caught up one the boys' adventures, and gave the required mock-rebuke to the twins, and scolded Percy on his detached and workaholic attitude. She nearly jumped in surprise when she noticed that Nia had already left the table without her taking notice. 'She's getting better at that,' she thought darkly, 'I'll have to school her in that. It's not safe for her to be popping about like that these days. And I doubt that Molly and Arthur-much less the majority of the magical community-would approve of what I'm teaching her. But it's for her own safety... and theirs... Gods, if they only knew...' Then she remembered Harry. 'Jesus Cluny Frog on a freakin' pogo stick! I didn't tell them about Harry!' Nia chose that moment to slip quietly back into the room, having sensed the change in the air. Sarah rubbed the knot of tension in her neck without Molly noticing. Ron noticed, however, and gave her a concerned look. She shot him a glance that conveyed her desire to leave it alone. He shrugged, and gulped more milk.

"Sit down, Molly," Sarah began quietly. Stilling herself in mid-scoop of some mashed potatoes, Molly sat down in her chair with the air of someone who just knows that what they are about to hear will shock them to the core.

"I have some news about Harry," Sarah continued, noticing how the whole Weasley family clenched fists and gripped the table with white knuckles. "He's staying at Gatewood House right now."

"Why is he at Gatewood House, Sarah?" Arthur slowly asked her suspiciously. His voice had a sharp edge to it, not characteristic of his normal self. There were bags under his eyes. Sarah stared at Nia while she spoke, seeing Percy and Ron in her peripheral vision.

"Do you know how the Dursleys have been treating him?" she couldn't keep the venom out of her voice when she spat out that filthy name. Her skin still crawled at the memory of that fat slug Dudley eyeing her up.

"They treat him like shit," Ron said without hesitation.

"Ronald Weasley!" his mother scolded absentmindedly. Ron cringed when he heard his mother's sharp tone.

"Well, they do, Mum," George piped up.

"You should've seen how they had him living the summer before his second year!" Fred added. Ron nodded vigorously. Sarah glanced at him before catching Nia's eye briefly.

"That was child's play to what they've done to him now," Sarah said quietly. She waited for that to sink in. Nia refused to meet her eyes anymore, which had turned a dark, smoky gray. Occasionally, a yellow spark starburst amongst the charcoal pupils.

"What have they done to him?" Molly's voice was just a whisper. Percy hung his head in his hands. Sarah shifted her gaze from Nia to Molly.

"When I got there, they had already beaten him badly. I got him to Gatewood House as soon as I could," she felt Nia briefly pierce her with a hot glance, but ignored its implications, "Most of his injuries were a day or so old. There was a lot of internal bleeding. His bones have been set, and are healing nicely... but he's under a fever right now, so we need to be careful." Silence pervaded the Burrow.

A person walking by the kitchen window would have sworn the place was frozen in time, so still did the party at the table hold themselves. Nia kept her bright eyes on the tabletop. Sarah broke the stillness when she brushed red hair irritably out of her eyes, jamming it mercilessly back into her braid with more force than necessary.

"How soon can we see him?" "Have you notified Albus?" "How the bloody hell could they let something like this happen!" "I told him that Harry would be safer with us!" The comments all came at once, like a torrent of rain from a cloudburst. Sarah took a sip of her water as the table erupted into shocked chaos. They stilled when she stood up, unnoticeably wobbling for a split second.

 "Harry is now safely living at Gatewood House from now on. I will not have it any other way, seeing as his only other relatives are either deceased or on the run from the law. I am going to Hogwarts tomorrow to inform Dumbledore, since he is too pre-occupied with finding a leak in the ministry to bother with anything else. I give you my word, Molly; I will give him a piece of my mind. And I doubt he'll like it.

"But right now, my truck could do with some repairing, and I believe that you have the right tools, Arthur. Would you be so kind?" Used to Sarah's rapid change of subjects after years of friendship, Arthur Weasley knew when the topic was closed. It was useless to argue with Sarah now. He sighed resignedly.

"Come on, Fred and George; let's go see what we can do. No doubt it'll have gone through World War Three. Percy, you too," he said rising from the table. The boys got up and followed him out, leaving behind Ron and Molly. Nia had already left inconspicuously. Sarah muttered darkly about it in her mind.

"Is there anything I can do?" Ron asked, looking pleadingly up at her, interrupting the morbid thoughts she was holding inside. Sarah loved that about him-he was so open and honest about things. It was an endearing quality many people lacked these days.

"Inform the Grangers for me. Use Percy's owl—Errol wouldn't stand up to the weight of what has to be said. And Ron," she gazed at him seriously, "Write to Gatewood House. Write to Harry; tell him how you feel. Errol can carry that one." The redheaded teenager nodded pensively. Sarah offered him a quick, soft half-smile which he weakly returned.

 "Is Harry going to be alright?" he asked in a timid voice. Sarah sighed, and came around the table to kneel in front of him. Her knees protested this greatly, but she ignored it. His warm brown eyes met her dark gray ones directly. He radiated concern for Harry.

"He will be if I have anything to say about it," she answered him gravely, "And I give you my word Ron, I have a lot to say." He held her gaze solemnly for a long moment, as though assessing her very soul. She almost shivered with the weight of it. 'There is much power in this one,' she thought with mild surprise, 'I will have to keep an eye on him. Molly and Arthur have no idea what is happening. I doubt if he even knows.'

She was about the blink when Ron broke eye contact himself. He got up quietly, his feet softly thumping up the staircase. The ghoul in the attack dropped a few pipes. Sarah quirked the corners of her mouth for a second. Then she turned to find Molly vigorously scrubbing pots and pans. Sighing heavily, Sarah rolled up her sleeves and took up a drying cloth.

"He's right," Molly said softly, "It is too quiet in here."

"It is the right time to be quiet, Molly," Sarah said kindly, the gray in her eyes shifting slightly to make room for brown starbursts. She lay a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"I know, it's just that...." Molly heaved a great sigh, trying not the let her tears fall, "Just that.... I wish that Albus would have listened to us! We warned him that something like this would happen... Arthur even tried to find a way of sneaking Harry away! But nobody would listen! Poor Harry... and Dear Lord! Poor Sirius-he must be out of his mind with worry!"

Sarah let her hand drop from Molly's shoulders. She hadn't thought of Sirius Black in years. Nadia had refused to speak his name after Lily and James had died, leaving him the only suspect. She cried every time it was spoken, so everybody stopped mentioning his name around her. It got so that his was a name that was never uttered in Gatewood House anymore.

"And dear Professor Lupin... poor thing, he loves Harry just as much as Sirius does. Oh dear me, oh dear, oh dear!" The name of her old friend Remus Lupin shocked her greatly. The last she'd heard of Remus, he'd disappeared shortly after the deaths of Lily and James. She recalled his handsome face with ease, trying to imagine how his undoubtedly tough life had aged him. In a burst of feeling, years of hiding emotions coming into reflexive action, she hugged Molly close. She could feel Molly's tears soak her black shirt at shoulder level. Her heart hurt, her body hurt, but she would be strong in order for others to find their own strength.

Sarah led Molly to dry her soapy hands and sit at the table again. Her fellow redhead hunched her shoulders. After a few moments, Sarah performed a small spell to prevent Molly from getting a headache. Then she set about washing and drying the dishes. The warm, soapy water helped to ease the slight ache in her hands. But it did nothing to ease the ache in her heart, nor that of her body.

When she was finished with the dishes, Sarah rooted around in her satchel. She found her pain meds, and downed them quickly. With a small nudge, her conscious reminded her that they weren't as effective as before. She made a mental note to up her dosage when she got back to Gatewood House. Heading back into the kitchen, she stopped in the doorway. Molly had fallen asleep at the table, her frizzy mane of graying red hair cushioning her head on her arm. Sarah left her that way.  
  
GATEWOOD HOUSE, that same Wednesday, Noon (12PM)  
  
Brian lay down next to Harry Potter in Sarah great bed. He and Lady Bryn had changed the sweat-soaked sheets just a few moments ago. She had left then, drifting ghost-like through the door, heading for the kitchen. Brian could smell the tangy scent of Sarah's special healing herbal tea brewing downstairs. He hoped that they could get Harry to keep some of it down this time.

The Boy Who Lived stirred in his feverish sleep. Concerned, Brian laid a cool, dry hand on his forehead. Harry stilled then, and his dry tongue ran over his dry lips. Brian reached for the glass of water he had on the bed stand, dipped his fingers, and ran them over Harry's mouth. That seemed to help a little.

Nadia waddled into the room, big as a house in her pregnancy. Brian looked up at her from on the other side of Harry's frail form. She was staring at Harry with a peculiar intensity. "He has Lily's eyes," she said quietly. Brian nodded silently, trusting her judgment as he had never known Lily Potter. He had seen pictures of her and James, but couldn't recall them clearly enough. Nadia came further into the room, standing beside Harry. Her hand flitted at her side before resting on Harry's thin wrist.

"He's too thin," she remarked, "We'll have to feed him right when he gets better. James was thin, too... but Quidditch put muscles on him. Harry's the same way, I'd wager."

"Sarah told me that he won Gryffindor the House Cup more than once because of Quidditch. He's their seeker," Brian said quietly.

Nadia nodded slowly, not saying anything. She suddenly leaned over Harry, brushing his sopping hair away from his forehead in a motherly way, exposing his famous scar. She lightly brushed a soft kiss over the lightning bolt, then straightened abruptly and left.  
  
HOGWARTS, same Wednesday, 7pm.  
  
Sirius Black had a headache as he stared out from the balcony of the Marauders' old Gryffindor rooms. And that headache went by the name of one, Severus Snape. He sighed in frustration. 'I hope Harry's having a better time than I am. That boy deserves a bit of a normal childhood for a while-even if it is with the three most horrible Muggles I've ever laid eyes on,' he thought with a heavy heart. Remus must have sensed his distress, because the werewolf laid a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I don't like it either, Sirius," said Remus softly, "But Dumbledore has his reasons for everything, even if we don't ever find them out."

"But it just doesn't make sense, Moony," Sirius cried, "They treat him like shit! Why would Dumbledore.... how could he just leave him there! How could he..." He trailed off. Remus looked thoughtful.

"How could he send Harry back to the Dursleys, who are horrible to him, instead of sending him with the Weasleys or Grangers, where he would be loved and treated well? Or why not have him stay at Hogwarts, even?" the werewolf asked gently. Sirius nodded, furiously running his hands through his newly-cut hair. It stood on end now that it was short, which Remus cast an amused glance to.

"I just wish that there was something that could be done," Sirius said, staring morosely out from the balcony across the landscape. The Forbidden Forest seemed to shimmer in sunset. Its color reminded him sharply of Nadia O'Connor, the one and only woman he had ever loved. The dark gray, so dark it was almost black, reminded him of her eyes... he shook his head to clear it when his heart stabbed him painfully. It wasn't safe to contact her yet... no doubt she was still worked up about him being loose from Azkaban.

"I wonder if there is anything we can do, Padfoot, old friend," Remus said sadly, his handsome face pensive. He, too, stared out at the Forbidden Forest in the sunset. He heard Sirius sigh. One glance at the former Marauder's face told him all he needed to know: Sirius was thinking of Nadia again. The werewolf echoed the escaped convict's sigh, propping his elbows on the balcony railing and resting his chin in his hands. His prematurely-graying hair tickled his ears in the wind.

"I have a headache," Sirius stated drearily, and turned away from the painful memory of Nadia, "I'm going to bed." Remus watched him as he crawled into bed. He almost smiled when he realized that it was the same bed that Sirius and James had alternated sleeping in during their Hogwarts years. When he remembered that it was also the bed that Harry usually slept in, his heart contracted painfully.

Remus shook his head, deciding that he wasn't ready for sleep just yet. He left the balcony and headed down the stairs and out of the deserted Gryffindor dormitories. His feet padded silently through the deserted corridors as he walked aimlessly through the corridors of Hogwarts Castle. The Great Hall's ceiling was clouded and misty as he ambled through it. All was silent and oppressive. He jumped when he saw that he wasn't alone.

"I couldn't sleep," he said when Severus Snape pinned him with a stare that conveyed annoyance and something very near hatred. The man had always made him slightly nervous, although he would never tell him that.

"And how, exactly, is that my problem?" Severus snapped impatiently. Remus gave him a passive look. The potions master shrugged stiffly, and began to walk away.

"Severus," Remus called out on impulse. The black-cloaked man paused, but didn't turn. "Do you know what Albus plans to do about Harry, should we not find the leak?" Remus asked. Severus barely turned his head.

"If the headmaster has any such plans," came the soft-wistful?-reply, "I am unaware of them. Goodnight, Lupin."

"Goodnight, Snape," Remus sighed. 'Why won't you let anyone in, Severus? Why won't Dumbledore do anything?'

 "Damn!" he exclaimed as he accidentally stubbed his toe on a bench. He sat down on it, rubbing his foot in exasperation. He noticed with a peculiar feeling in his gut that he was sitting at the Slytherin table. He looked out across the Great Hall. He stopped massaging his uninjured foot.

The Great Hall looked awfully big and cold from there.  
  
THE BURROW, that Wednesday night, Midnight.  
  
"What happened?" Nia hissed at Sarah as she let herself quietly into the room. Sarah closed the door silently and turned to face the youngest member of the Weasley household. "Keep your pants on, Virginia," Sarah snapped, jamming stray hair back into her braids, "I ran into some trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"The stubborn, stupid, half-dead idiot kind," Sarah sighed, rubbing her face gingerly. Virginia placed her hands on her hips. She looked a lot older than her fifteen years. "Dementors, I take it?"

"Hole in one. Give that gal a cigar!

"I took care of it, but couldn't risk porting," Sarah sat down on Nia's desk chair, the back of it between her legs, her head resting on its top.

"Too much interference?" Nia asked, cocking her head to one side, regarding Sarah sharply. Her red hair, a few shades darker than Sarah's, fell into her eyes. She ignored it.

"No—the rush of energy would have set me off Voldemort's radar like the Fourth of fucking July. I couldn't risk exposing Harry like that, so I drove the truck. Hence the fucking damage Arthur had to repair today."

 "I see," Virginia said, her brown eye solemnly staring out into space for a few seconds. For one incredible second, Sarah almost thought she saw a young Lily in her place, but Lily had startlingly green eyes. Nia blinked, and the moment was over.

"What do we do now?" she asked Sarah.

"We keep our eyes open, as usual. Use any contact, any means necessary, to find this Goddamn leak in the Ministry. Keep this away from your parents; they have enough worries of their own." Nia nodded, the moonlight coming through her window casting a silvery, blurry aura around her body. To her, Sarah's eyes had a feral, cold quality to them. She shivered under the weight of her stare.

"And watch where you portal to," Sarah said earnestly, "I don't like how you're popping about. It isn't safe anymore, not even for one so heavily warded as you. It doesn't matter that your family doesn't notice—you still have to watch yourself. What I'm teaching you is dangerous," Sarah continued, "It could turn the whole magical community, including your family, against you. I've seen it happen... it isn't something that needs to happen. At least," Sarah added, "Not yet, anyway." The two conspirators stared at one another. Minutes past, and the ghoul in the attic dropped some pipes overhead.

 "You and your family will come back to Gatewood House for the remainder of the summer," Sarah said finally.

 "Mom won't go in for that," Virginia said, "And besides, won't Dumbledore object to that as well?"

"Molly will come. Dumbledore will have a piece of my mind before tomorrow is out," Sarah stated confidently, "He may shun me, but he knows that I am needed now. He'll have to swallow his Goddamn precious fucking pride and accept my aide. He has no other choice, if we are to beat Voldemort."

 "But you've been fighting behind the scenes for years," Virginia protested, "You mean to tell me that all this time, since he found you out, even after all has been said and done, that he'd just-"

"Dumbledore doesn't like me. He doesn't like how I do things." Virginia sighed. They were both so tired... but they were both knew that one of them would always be awake.

 "Go to sleep. We'll make this right." The door closed quietly on the dark figure of Harry's savior.  
  
A/N: Hi all! No, this is faaaaaaaaaaaar from over!!!!!!!! I just wanted to give you all an early Christmas present. I wasn't planning on doing this, but I'm going home in five or six days (depending on how ya count 'em) and won't have access to this story. So Merry Christmas to All.... and to All A Good Night! (With many wonderful ahem Slytherin... OR Gryffindor... dreams.... heh heh heh)


	5. in which Sarah confronts Dumbledore

DISCLAIMER: I own zip, zero, zilch, nada of Harry Potter.  I only own Gatewood House, and those chars not actually in the books that you don't recognize.  So don't sue... all you'll get is lint and dust bunnies.  Lots of 'em.  

GATEWOOD HOUSE, Saturday night, approx. 9 p.m.  

Sarah, Brian, and Magen had been gone since Sarah had dropped off the Weasleys Thursday afternoon.  Arthur had driven her truck back, and Molly had supervised Floo travel.  As soon as she had been sure that they were safely occupied with Harry, Sarah had ordered her sister Magen and Brian to prepare for a counter-strike.  Nadia and Tori had put extra warding on the house while Brian and she made a last-minute check on ammunition.  Magen was careful to pack Sarah's special tea.  When she wasn't looking, Sarah slipped painkillers, a small flask of vodka, and her herbal cigarettes.  

They left, clad all in black and weapons in their arms, just as Ron pelted down the stairs to announce that Harry was having a seizure.  Nadia and Lady Bryn shoved him unceremoniously out of the way, sending him sprawling into Gabriel and Saskia's arms.  

"Go!" Gabriel shouted as he righted Ron and headed up the stairs after Nadia and Lady Bryn.  

"Kill some for me," Saskia hissed angrily at them, before she ran up the stairs towards Sarah's room.  Gabriel's footsteps could still be heard thumping loudly on the second floor... now he was on the third... With Brian and Magen ahead of her in the kitchen doorway, Sarah hesitated.  

"**Move!" Adrienne hollered at them, motioning with her hands.  Sarah whirled around and they marched outside, dashing into their vehicles.  Magen's black convertible, Brian's gray Stratus, and Sarah's black Subaru screeched out of the parking lot seconds later.  Nobody mentioned any destination or return date.  **

So it was that from Thursday afternoon to Saturday night that the residents of Gatewood House threw half-expectant glances at the door whenever a car squealed its tires anywhere near the house.  Finally, at nine o'clock Saturday night, two cars could be heard to pull loudly into the driveway.  Immediately, Nadia was on her feet and running towards the medicine cabinet.  Virginia pelted down the stairs, tripping and catching herself on the wall on the bottom landing.  She skidded around to help Nadia pull various herbs and meds from the cabinet as Ron, Molly, and Arthur gazed on from the table in confusion.  

The back door banged open, and Brian and Magen came limping inside.  They supported each other, neither one of them really fit for doing so.  Blood seeped from several nasty gashes across Magen's forehead; her right ankle obviously favored, but her left knee had a large purple bruise that was rapidly swelling; her left arm was wrapped in a make-shift sling.  Brian leaked blood from his nose; his left ear was torn, trickling more blood; badly bruised and swollen eyes made it difficult for him to see; his left leg was broken and there was a nasty gash across his stomach.  

Arthur jumped up to help and was quickly joined by Tori, Adrienne, Saskia, and Chloe.  With great care, the two injured people were assisted to the table.  Nadia and Virginia swooped down on them instantly, bearing medicinal and herbal remedies.  There was much wincing as peroxide made generous rounds.

"**Ouch!  God_dammit, Nadia!  Why the hell does it have to _****hurt so much!?" Magen complained.**

"Shit, that **stings, man!" Brian voiced.  Nadia clucked motherly at him, Virginia hushed him with a glare.**

"If you weren't such a goddamn eager beaver when fighting, you wouldn't have so many cuts and bruises and... and... and WOUNDS!" Nadia shot back angrily.  Magen found the strength to snort.

"She gotcha there, Bri—**OW, man, watch what the _hell ya doin', girl!" she jerked away from Virginia, who promptly forced her head back into reach and began dabbing it with more peroxide._**

"We can't have you making it home the _glorious heroine_, and then DYING from INFECTION," Virginia snapped impatiently.  It was Brian's turn to snort, but he quickly turned it into a near-scream as his leg was set.  There were no more retorts then, as the more serious injuries were seen to.  An hour later, Magen and Brian were patched up and eating re-heated leftovers.  Brian had to be fed his, since he couldn't see for his swollen-shut eyes.  Ron scratched his head and frowned when Virginia fed Brian as though she'd done it before.  

"They jumped us, goddamn stupid sonsabitches!" Magen griped as she chewed her chicken. 

"Watch your language!" Molly cried angrily.  Magen just glanced at her with a dead look.

"Its not like they haven't heard it before," she stated, drinking milk, "_Anyways_," she continued over Molly's outraged cry, "Stupid _freaks jumped us before we even got in the __freakin' doorway.  Sarah got the one who grabbed me over the head, and we lost track of Brian."_

"They tried to take me off to somewhere, but Sass and Mage caught up with us.  That's how I got the eyes," Brian interjected.  "I got cut when another one made a swipe at Magen with a sword.  Missed _her, got __me instead."  He had to stop then, as Virginia placed food to his lips and he took it._

"Sarah got separated from us, managing to take about six of them out of commission permanently," Magen took over, "She got about eight more of them to follow her when she took off after Lucy-Loo, DEAR fellow that he is..."

"Who?" Ron interrupted as Virginia suppressed a giggle.  Arthur watched the goings-on, a frown creasing his brow, fingers stroking his chin.  Molly just sat and stared, eyes following whoever was talking.  

"Lucy-loo, our favorite asshole," Magen bit out as Brian guffawed, which he quickly stopped as it pulled at his stitches on his stomach.  

"Otherwise known as Lucius Malfoy," Nadia said bitterly, "Sonuva_bitch _got me one day grocery shopping in London.  That's how I wound up with this," she said flatly, patting her pregnant belly, "Don't know who put it to me, and frankly, I don't give a fat damn," she said casually as she cleared dishes, ignoring the Weasley family's outraged and shocked stares, "I just want this over with so we can all go outside without having to watch our backs at all times."

"And I don't want our kids to have to live in fear of some fuck-witted asswipe who thinks that just because he's got the power of the snake-god, he can fuck up the world to suit his dip-shit ideals," Adrienne ranted.  She was sitting near Molly, and grabbed Molly's hand mid-air as she was just about her hit her up-side the head.  Adrienne placed Molly's hand pointed back at her side without even looking.

"Yeah, yeah; watch my mouth," she grouched, "Can't blame me, though, can you?  I hate him.  I want him dead, done, and out of the way."

"We all want that," Brian put in softly, turning blindly in the direction of the sink, where he thought Nadia was, "Sarah said to say that she had a few more, er, _errands to run," he said.  He jumped when Nadia rested her hands on his shoulders from behind._

"I see," she said, kissing the top of his head, "Well, big bro, should we be keeping a look-out for her?  Maybe alert the network?"  She gingerly rested her chin on the top of his head.  He sighed, considering his options.

"Doubt it," he concluded, "She's been wanting to give Dumbledore a, ahem, piece of her mind, so to speak.  I really truly doubt that she'll be gone long."

"Your turn to lie down with Harry, Bri—never mind," Gabriel said from the first landing on the back kitchen staircase, getting a good look at what his best friend looked like, "I'll take a double shift."  He turned to go back up the stairs.

"No," Molly spoke up, surprising everyone, "I'd like to be with him for a while.  If that's alright," she addressed Nadia.  The pregnant woman nodded after a moment.  She met Gabriel's eyes as Molly crossed the room.  The older man nodded after a second, and escorted Sarah's old friend up to Harry's room.

HOGWARTS, Sunday morning, 8:00am

Sirius Black sat in his old History of Magic classroom, watching Professor Binns go over his teaching notes.  The ghost had given him a brief glance, not recognizing the groomed and clean man in front of him as the fugitive Sirius Black, also a former pupil of his.  Not that he took any notice of who he taught, really; but it was the principal of the thing, and Sirius would give anything to have Hogwarts's only ghost professor recognize him and make a friendly and impartial conversation with him.  

He would give anything to have Nadia here with him.

Ever since he'd gained his freedom, her face had haunted him.  The image of her had been particularly bright after he'd noticed the way that the Dark Forest was the color of her eyes during sunset.  It was times like these where he envied Severus Snape's heartlessness.  

Severus Snape; now THERE was a mystery.  Sirius felt his old hatred well up inside him, but tampered it down with a fierce battle of wills.  Dumbledore wanted them to work together; he was going to have to grow up and put ill feelings aside—however mutual they may be—they were on the same side now.  It was time to put the past where in belonged, as Nadia would say.

Nadia again... dear God in heaven... what he would do just to see her face.  Her perfect oval face, sprinkled with a few peach-golden freckles; her sculpture-perfect, talented mouth of pale rose; that strong chin, which she raised proudly and her twilight forest eyes...  It was killing him not to tell her the truth.  He needed her.

He sensed a new presence in the room.  Professor Binns didn't even glance up.  Sirius turned suddenly around, just in time to see the corner of a black cape flutter past the doorway.  

Professor Severus Snape had been watching him... again.

HOGWARTS, Sunday morning, 10:00 A.M.

Even though there were no students in the Great Hall, the teachers still ate there.  Severus made his slightly late appearance with little fanfare, grumbling a hello to Dumbledore as he sat down heavily.  He drank his coffee black, in one long draught.  Then he set about his food.  The morning promised to calm, if work-filled.  _At least I won't have to work with Black, he thought with dark approval.  He downed more black coffee as Black himself entered, Remus Lupin trailing behind him.  Black, to Snape's groggy and bitter amusement, looked haggard and pissed-off.  Lupin, on the other hand, while haggard in appearance as well, looked as if he were dryly amused at his companion's irritation.  Severus wondered absently what the hell was going on between the two, part of him dying to know so that he could torment Black about it.  The other part of him just plain didn't care.  He was about to put more food into his mouth, when there was a great explosion at the doors to the Great Hall.  _

Sarah decided not to give Albus any warning at all when she entered Hogwarts.  As soon as she had left Brian and Magen, she had made a series of hops and double-backs, making sure she wasn't followed.  The energy she had used during the fight had drained her more than she cared to admit.  Sustaining a lucky blow to the nose, which still trickled a bit of blood, and a broken arm, she felt incensed.  Her bottom lip was also tender from where Lucius Malfoy had gotten another lucky strike in, and her teeth had broken the skin.  Once she was sure she wasn't followed, she broke all hell for Hogwarts, determined to set Albus back into his place.  _Just who the hell does he think he is_, she thought heatedly.  Her eyes burned orange in her seething annoyance.  So, despite the time and day, she channeled her feelings and energy, and _exploded_ into the Great Hall of Hogwarts.  As the fireball around her dissipated, she felt her whole body stiffen and tense with the shock of the sudden loss of un-prepared for energy loss.  But the stunned and disgruntled look on Dumbledore's face gave her grim satisfaction... it did NOT, however, lessen her mood one bit.  She glared at him through her dark sunglasses.  _And...__ oh shit, Sirius and Remus are here too.  Fuck, I wish that these things didn't always fall to me... well, at least I sensed them before I finished portalling here!  Dammit, Albus, you got me exiled for exactly what you're doing now..._

"ALBUS DUMBLEDORE!" she yelled, letting lose a fan of flames behind her.  

Snape stopped his fork mid-air.  He was shocked at first by the sudden and dramatic appearance of the woman who was virtually screaming at the top of her lungs at the Headmaster.  He glanced from her to Albus, taking in the obvious mutual dislike they had for each other.  The woman was OBVIOUSLY pissed about something, and Dumbledore wasn't too happy about seeing this woman at all.  _Who the hell is she, he thought, __and how the bloody hell did she get in here?  _The wards should have kept her OUT!  I'll be talking to LUPIN and BLACK about this!_  He watched in fascination as the imposing redhead marched quickly and fiercely up to the head table, flames fanning out behind her like a brilliant fiery peacock's tail.  He noted with detachment that her eyes were flickering orange and red.  He could FEEL her supreme anger._

"What do you want, Hawkins?" Dumbledore's voice could have icicles forming above his head any minute.

"Oh, take your self-righteous bull-shit and shove it up your ass, Dumbledore!" she snapped heatedly.  She ignored the pain in her arm and head.  Sparks landed on the stone floor, smoldering as they were snuffed out into ash. 

"Um... Sa-" Lupin started, drawing Snape's attention to the startling discovery that _he seemed to be the only staff member present who didn't know this woman!  __Why hasn't anyone asked why her nose is bleeding and her arm is so obviously broken?  He was distracted and vaguely amused when she snapped again._

"Quiet, Lupin!" Sarah snapped, her body feeling the flickering of flames like hot butterflies on her skin.

"I'll say it again, Hawkins," Dumbledore stated, his voice disapproving and cold, "What do you want?"  Sarah speared him with a glare to melt rock, taking off her sunglasses to expose her orange-and-red eyes.   A large bruise was spreading across her left eye.

"What the HELL were you THINKING!" she raged, swiping her hands over the table, sending plates of food flying into the air, "Harry did NOT belong there!"

"HARRY IS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS!" Dumbledore roared, pounding his fists on the table, shocking Severus greatly.  Lupin and Black met Snape's gaze, and flicked back to Dumbledore's face, turning red in anger.  Sarah's face remained a frozen wasteland of paleness.

 "Albus, you sentimental old codger, are you fucking **insane**! You're so fucking **blind, Albus," she said in a dead voice.  The room fell silent.  _Apparently nobody's had the guts to swear at the old guy before_, she thought with removed amusement.  She leaned menacingly over the table, narrowing her eyes to solid red slits.  _Ignore the stupid pain in your left eye; ignore it and deal with it later; ignore the pain...._**

  "I **told** you to send him to live with me!  **Lilly and James asked you to send him to me!  Why, Albus... ****Why didn't you?  Couldn't you have swallowed your Goddamn precious pride for ****once!  Do you know what they ****did to him, Albus?" she hissed.  **

When he didn't respond, she felt her whole body grow rock-solid.  She could sense everyone's eyes on her.  The flames flickered down to small red lines of energy, zipped across the planes of her body.  She was too used up for anything more spectacular, though she would never admit to it.  _There is no pain; only a body accepting when it's been injured,_ she repeated the mantra subconsciously in her head.  Her anger, directed at Albus, shut out any recognition of bodily discomfort. 

"They beat him, Albus," she whispered in a voice to freeze flames in hell, "They put him in a bloody coma."  She drank in his shock and disbelief, knowing that this was not the way for the others to find out, but yet knowing that she had no choice.  There was no time left.  _I need to get the hell out of here and back to Harry!_

"I don't believe you."  

Sarah was taken aback by Albus's denial.  She shook her head, her eyes clearing to orange irises.  After all this time, after all she had done, he was still going to hate her.  He simply could not forgive her for being who she was.  _Not my problem, she decided.  She knew that the others were asking her questions; that Black was almost yelling at her for answers, and Lupin was trying to restrain him.  _

 "Harry is at Gatewood House," she said to Sirius Black, whom her old friend Remus had been restraining.  They looked at each other for a long moment, years of separation tumbling away from them, their contact of friendship remaining intact.  _Shit, Nadia's gonna flip when she sees him.  She looked at Remus, her eyes finally turning brown, willing him to understand.  __I need you, old friend.  There is much to be done; it is time for you to come home.  It is time for a lot of things.  Damn._

"I'll let Nadia know to make space," she said enigmatically to Sirius, before turning on her heel and walking towards the Great Hall's doors.  As she put her sunglasses back on, a flicker of black movement caught her eye; she met the eyes of a dark man.  His black eyes sent shivers through her, as though he could see right to her soul.  She hated that.  Finishing the movement to restore her sunglasses to her face, wincing inwardly as she bumped her tender nose, she vanished in a huge ball of fire.  There was a BOOM that shook the Great Hall, and the fire ball shrank in on itself, and was gone.

Severus felt the blood rush in his veins when the fiery redhead made eye contact with him.  Her brown eyes bore into his head, making it thrum and throb with the weight of it.  Just as quickly, she looked away, and the moment went unnoticed by the others.  _Who are you?  He screamed mentally after her, absently noting that he had put his fork down a long time ago.  _They beat him?  Those filthy Muggles beat the Boy-Who-Lived?  Dear Gods, this is what Black and those Weasleys were afraid of... how many times did he warn Albus that we should do something?  I've lost track...__

"**Severus," McGonagall was addressing him, apparently not for the first time.**

"What?" he said intelligently, for once not receiving a retort from Black.

"We are planning what to do about this horrible turn of events," she said waspishly.  Severus felt something in the pit of his stomach turn.

"We leave and go to the Dursley house ourselves," he said matter-of-factly, "See for ourselves what really happened."

"Very good, Severus," Dumbledore said, awkwardly getting up from his chair, trying to avoid the mess that had been left behind.

"Who was that, Albus?" he asked, rising as well.  Dumbledore stopped.

"Sarah Hawkins, old friend," he said stiffly, as if there were a bad taste in his mouth and he was too polite to say anything, "An exile of the Magical Community.  She is neither witch, nor wizard, and has no loyalties..."

"That's a crock of shit, Albus, and _you know it!_"  

The entire teaching staff of Hogwarts turned to stare incredulously at Sirius Black, who was seething in fury.  Remus Lupin was beside him, hands tightly clenched and anger visibly beginning to get out of check.

"Sirius Black," Dumbledore began, but Sirius interrupted again.

"She is loyal to Harry!  She is loyal to her family!  She is loyal to her friends!  Loyal to OUR CAUSE!"

"ENOUGH!  Both of you!" McGonagall snapped sternly, "We must get to the Dursley house immediately!  There's no telling who's right in this!  Harry's life may be at stake!"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: And I think I'll just leave it at that for now.  So.... what do you ppl want to see happen?  Any guesses as to why Dumbledore hates Sarah so much?  What did she mean by saying that he had gotten her exiled for doing exactly what he was doing now?  C'mon, people.... REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW!!!  PLEASE!  


	6. Gatewood House and Sarah on the Road fin...

DISCLAIMER: J. K. Rowling created the Harry Potter universe, Hogwarts, Sirius, Severus, Harry, and yeah, all the characters you recognize.  Those you don't... aka the Gatewood  House residents... are mine, and please ask me permission to use them.  Feel free to archive this anywhere, just send me a link so I can visit the site too!  -- Aurora M.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I apologize for the lack of updating... please understand that this year has been particularly hard on me.  I've been dealing with some illnesses, and it's taken time, plus school and work and family and friends and a wonderful 600-mile long-distance romance that just reached it's one-year anniversary.  Needless to say, life has been hellishly busy.  Anyway... please enjoy!

Sunday afternoon, June of 1999, on the road from Gatewood House

Sarah was fuming mad, drained, and driving way too fast.  On the floor of the passenger seat of her black Stratus sat a cooler, filled with bottles of water, juice, Vanilla Coke, whiskey and vodka.  On the passenger seat itself lay some guns, knives, and a few other odds and ends.  The back seat was filled with black-wrapped packages, and the trunk contained some other Muggle equipment.

Royally pissed off, she'd smoked a pack of cigarettes already and was starting on her second.  She had the music cranked up high, playing Nightwish.  She scowled at the road ahead of her, hating that her vision blurred sometimes.  She knew her body was slowly giving out... she just couldn't let it yet.  She _had_ to make it a bit further first...

She'd stopped back at Gatewood House earlier just long enough to grab some clothes, kiss Nadia goodbye, toss her an off-hand warning about Sirius, and leave.  Lady Bryn had nearly collided with her as she ran to her Stratus, which had been packed and delivered right on schedule.  That had been six hours ago.

She hoped that her appearance and outburst at Hogwarts had stirred Albus to do SOMETHING.  He couldn't just leave it all up to her this time, he _had_ to realize that!  She didn't know how much longer she was going to last in this kind of a game... her last round with Voldemort had left pieces of her destroyed and shattered beyond repair.  And he had not even acknowledged her and Gatewood House's help.  He'd just looked at them like they were strangers, too prim and proper in the official light of the _Daily Prophet's_ cameras and the Ministry's press conference to admit that he had enlisted _THIER_ help.  She could have strangled him for the pain he brought to Nadia and Magen's eyes.  They had lost the most.  They had suffered the greatest.  And he couldn't even bring himself to tell those two precious women that the friends and family and lovers they had lost during the war had bought them Victory... had bought them time.  The stupid motherf.....

Sarah swerved severely to the left to avoid a head-on collision with a truck.  She drove off the road and shoved the car into Park.  Sighing, she leaned her aching head back and closed her eyes, trying to ease the dizziness and blurring vision.  A prickling sensation at the back of her neck snapped her to attention again. 

High above the highway she was on, dead ahead of her about ten miles down, the Dark Mark burned green in the sky.

Sunday afternoon, July 1999, Gatewood House

Nadia was cooking with a ferocity that could level buildings.  Magen had already cleaned the house twice by the time Gabriel got back from a reconnaissance trip to Little Whinging, and was starting it all over again.  It was their way to deal with what they could not.  He looked at them as he set his backpack down on the floor.  He felt pain.

Passing through the kitchen and heading up to his bedroom on the second floor, he passed the Weasley children.  Even their bright red hair seemed dulled.  _Sirius_, he thought, _it's got to be Sirius.  And he'll be bringing Remus with him, of course.  At least Nadia and Magen aren't in the field right now..._

His thoughts were interrupted when he entered his room.  His wife Chloe had left it a mess, which meant she felt the disaster about to erupt.  Anything Magen did to deal with Remus, Chloe dutifully un-did.  It was a strange relationship, and it worked for some reason.

Kind of like how Sirius and Remus operated, too.  One wild, one calm.  One too smartass for his own good, the other too wise for his age.  Combine the two, add a violence best left simmering and ignored, and you had Sarah on a nice day.  Good God, Sarah; that poor bitch did far more the cause than most people.  She did the most damage, caused the enemy the worst pain, and cost them far too much to keep fighting her in the end.  She also was the worst wreck he'd ever seen when she was through doing what it was she did.  Gods, he didn't want to know what she did.  It was far better for him to just do the small things she asked him to do on rare occasions when she couldn't do them herself.

Like his recent reconnaissance trip to Little Whinging.  Gabriel knew she'd have gone back herself, but that she had too much to do right now.  When she'd burst into the kitchen, eyes frantically searching for anyone with enough guts to get near her, he felt his heart sink.  She was already looking strained, and readily moving towards looking like hell.  Gabriel got up and asked her what she needed without hesitation.  She looked so grateful for a split second that he wasn't sure he'd missed something important.  When she filled him in on the situation, he was glad he was the only one in the kitchen at that moment. 

When he'd come back down, an overnight bag packed, his black leather jacket hanging off his shoulders and his old bandana around his head, Sarah's black Stratus was still parked in the driveway.  Nadia and Magen were putting away groceries.  He'd kept his mouth shut about Sarah, said he was heading to Little Whinging, kissed them both and fled the house.

He'd made it to Little Whinging in record time, thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel in time to the Celtic rock booming on his stereo system.  He parked across the road, locking the doors to his truck and crossing the street.  He ran into Arabella Figg, and received an enthusiastic hug that took him by surprise.  Apparently she was still on their side, which was good to know.  He caught her up on events, and they had both been startled by the sudden appearance of the head staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on the front lawn of Number Four Privet Drive.

He leveled a cool stare at the Headmaster, calling out a carefully friendly greeting to Remus and Sirius.  Unlike most, he had never believed that Sirius was guilty, and was glad to have his suspicions confirmed.  A tall dark man in the back, nose hooked and eyes glaring daggers at everyone, had met Gabriel's eyes unflinchingly but without repulsion. 

"What are you doing here, Mr. Hawkins?" the Headmaster had inquired coldly.

"Reconnaissance," he had answered shortly, and added, "Harry's at Gatewood House, recovering nicely.  He'll return to Hogwarts at the beginning of term, and not a moment before.  Look," he'd help up a hand to stall the Headmaster's protests, "I'm not here to cause trouble.  Sass was a bit messy when she left, and was too busy keeping Harry safe and alive to return and clean up.  So I told I would.  Just let me do my work and leave."

The Headmaster hadn't responded, but the dark man in the back charged ahead and knocked on the door.  It had been a long day after that—after FINALLY gaining admittance (THAT had took a lot of magic), Gabriel stayed out of the way and repaired what he could of Sarah's damage.  It had been exactly what he'd been expecting, and hadn't taken too long.  He had left before the Hogwarts crew, stopping only to briefly shake hands with Remus and Sirius and fill them in properly.  The dark man had been tagged as Severus Snape, potions master and spy in Voldemort's circle.  Gabriel left them with orders to get him to meet Sarah as soon as possible, and left.

Two weeks later, Sunday evening, late July 1999, on the road

Sarah sped up, flooring the gas pedal and bracing for impact.  She heard the thud of the body before the shock of impact reached her and she saw the body of the Death Eater go airborne.  Skidding on the pavement slick with blood, she gained control of the car and swerved to avoid a particularly well-aimed nasty curse. 

"FUCK!" she swore as a Dementor flung itself at the passenger side, knocking the car's already precarious alignment completely off and making her slide into some trash cans that were the only innocent bystanders in the alleyway.  She felt a burning build behind her eyes, reaching through her veins and traveling down her skin into the palm of her right hand.  Blood dripped from a cut finger, and the drops sizzled with red sparks.  Sarah flung the ball of energy through the open window, and the Dementor's face burst into flames.  Screeching, the thing immediately flew off into the night.  Sarah felt the rush of energy diminish, leaving her skin and veins aching. 

She made it out of the alley and onto the open road, immediately coaxing the beaten car into top speed again.  Two Death Eaters, one limping heavily and the other with blood soaking through the white cloak, gave chase on foot.  Crabbe let loose a stream of white-ish light that aimed true, and shattered her back windshield.  Sarah winced as she felt glass bite into her neck and scalp.  Slowing down suddenly to twenty-five kilometers per hour, she pulled out one of her pistols and aimed her last bullet at him.  In the darkness of the evening, most of the streetlights damaged in their fight, neither Crabbe nor Goyle could see her.  Sarah fired, and Crabbe fell.  Dead or not, she didn't care. 

She made to the freeway without further incident and flew down it with a vengeance.  She pulled some of the glass out of her neck and scalp, wincing again at a sprained wrist.  Everything ached; the world spun several times and her vision kept blurring at the edges.  Sarah pulled off the freeway onto the next exit, taking back roads she hadn't had to travel in six years.  She headed East, heading home. 

Gatewood House was only five more hours away.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Again, thank you for waiting so patiently for the next chapter.  I didn't want to post rubbish, so it's taken me a while to shift through my raw ideas and get it ready for posting.  Hope you enjoyed it.  Please, REVIEW and let me know what you think.  Feel free to email me too.           


	7. June into early July Gatewood House late...

AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Again, thank you for waiting so patiently for the next chapter.  I didn't want to post rubbish, so it's taken me a while to shift through my raw ideas and get it ready for posting.  Hope you enjoyed it.  Please, REVIEW and let me know what you think.  Feel free to email me too.          

Sarah sighed as she pulled into the driveway of Gatewood House.  Her car gave a shudder as she pulled it to a stop.  'Damn,' she thought, 'This one's way beyond repair.  Now I'll have to spend the money to get a new one, on top of everything else!  Damn, damn, DAMN!'

There were a few people home, but nobody talked to her and she didn't talk to them.  Gabriel took a quick moment to help get the glass out of her skin and set a few healing charms in place before the hopped in the shower.  Mud, blood, ash, and whatever else she'd gotten into sloshed down the drain.  She'd washed the worst of it off standing under the hose outside in the garden.  She wished her spirit could be cleansed as easily; just as easily put to rest in something that might make it reborn as life.  She dried using an old black towel to hide the stains of fresh blood, dripping from re-opened wounds.  A few bandages later and she headed to her room to change. 

She preferred the Muggle way of healing wounds—it felt more real to her.  She wanted to keep her pain.  She wanted to remind herself of the cost of keeping others alive... of keeping things right and true.

Dressed in old jeans with holes in them, a black leotard, and combat boots and shoving her hair into a worn baseball cap, Sarah threw another similar outfit into a duffel bag and checked on Harry for the hundredth time that hour.  She kissed his forehead and laid a pale hand on Chloe's sleeping face.  She blew a breath of healing onto Harry's lips, and left the room, closing the door softly behind her. 

Downstairs, she swiped a bottle of vodka and lit up an herbal cigarette.  Exhaling the smoke, she threw raisins and bottle of Gatorade into the duffel.  Making a mental note to stop at the pharmacy and pick up more painkillers, she stuck the vodka into the bag and filled a bottle with water.  After grabbing some Nutri-Grain bars, she left the house without anybody knowing she was there.  With one last look at her bedroom window, she started in mild surprise when Nia came walking out of the shed.  She was wearing one of Nadia's old summer dresses in a casual floral print.  It suited her.

"What are you doing here?" Sarah asked.   

"I was potting some herbs for Nadia," she answered honestly, "Where are you going?"

"I'm going France to talk to our Beauxbatons people, and then to Durmstrang for some news and supplies.  You be careful not to pop in and out from now on, unless I tell you."

"I understand.  Sarah," Virginia Weasley hesitated, "When it gets too rough, please don't hesitate to call for help.  I'm sure if Mims..."

"No," Sarah cut in calmly, "I won't involve her at all.  Hermione needs to be stabilized right now.  I don't want her finding out about all of this, and then gallivanting off with the Suicide Pack trying to take on His Asshole-ness too early, before we're ready.  And certainly not until you've had some more experience in the field yourself."

"But..."

"And," Sarah continued smoothly, "I need you to keep your eyes and ears on Dumbledore!  Nia, I need you to do that for me.  When the time is right, we'll take Azkaban back from... well, when it happens, you'll know."

"Not when you keep giving me only half of the truth," Nia crossed her arms over her breasts.  Sarah's expression was hard to read.  Her dark mahogany eyes had a dark blue mist over them for a few seconds before clearing.  She sighed then, and Nia thought she could see bursts of white in her eyes, but it may have been a trick of the sun.  The moment was over when Sarah abruptly kissed her cheek and strode purposefully to her truck.  

Nia watched her peel out of the parking lot and driveway at breakneck speed, her arms wrapped around herself and her eyes almost unfocused.  Then she turned and went into the shed to finish potting the rosemary.

A few weeks later, early June of 1999, Gatewood House:

"When Sarah gets back...." Nadia sighed.  _When Sarah gets back... and when the _hell_ will that be?!_ she wondered.  Dear God, the stress was getting to her.  She understood what had to be done, and did her part to help... but Gods, she wished she could be out there with her sister, and not stuck in the kitchen with a Death Eater's brat on the way.  _STOP RIGHT THERE!_ she commanded herself, _Don't you dare go down that road.  You're doing your part here... it's just a different role this time.  And my baby is _not_ a Death Eater's brat... it's MY BABY.  Mine..._

"When Sarah gets back... what?  What then, Nadia?  We can't wait for her!" Saskia interrupted her thoughts.

"When Sarah gets back, maybe we'll get some more answers for Harry," Nadia replied calmly, hands folded neatly over her swollen belly.  "Have some faith, Saskia."

"Hey, I'm sorry, babe.  I just... hate the waiting for her.  It's worse when waiting for her."

"I know," Nadia stated quietly.  Of all of them, Sarah was the worst case in the end, and yet she would still believe that the dawn would follow the midnight; she would still keep the world of pain and darkness she knew away from those she loved. 

"I hope she meets somebody... someday... who can save her from herself," Saskia said quietly, her hands shoved into her pockets, where moments before they had been balled into fists.  Nadia had to bite her cheeks to keep from saying that she agreed. 

They both knew that it was exactly that—Sarah giving herself wholly unto the world—which kept so many nightmares from becoming a reality.

It was amazing how easy it became to just overlook the muck, mire, blood and soot... to simply blur ones vision, and instead of a grimace of pain, see a smile of Sarah's patented brand of sarcastic humor.  Her lips would quirk to one side first, before blossoming into a radiance unknown before. 

"It's been a long time since we've seen Sarah smile," Saskia remarked quietly, seemingly reading Nadia's thoughts, as usual.  She was looking at the floor, her long blonde hair, long overdue for a haircut, obscuring most of her face.  Shadows encased her, as though embracement.  Nadia suppressed a shiver.  Saskia tilted her head up a bit to look at Nadia, her cornflower blue eyes almost too big for her face.

"It's been a long time since anyone smiled," Nadia said in whispery voice.  The Grandfather clock in the Den struck midnight.  The house was silent, except for the creaking of the old wood and the soft tinkle of the wind chimes in the open window above the sink. 

"Sarah would think that was important."

Both women were silent.  Somewhere in the large house a toilet flushed, and soft footsteps padded back to bed.  Nadia felt her child kick within her womb.  Her expression softened as she looked down at it.  Suddenly, though not surprisingly, she felt Saskia's hands over her own.  The baby kicked again.

"Just don't tell Uncle Brian I told you that you could be a ballerina," Saskia told Nadia's belly.  When her bright blue eyes met Nadia's of twilight forest, they were sparkling.

They both smiled before they realized it.

"Good," Nadia said finally, and hugged Saskia close.  _Sarah, wherever you are, come home, please._  She hooked her arm in Saskia's, and the two women went off to bed.  Saskia departed at the second floor landing, and Nadia climbed to the third floor landing.  She turned off the main staircase then, and padded softly down the hallway towards a light she saw coming down the back spiral staircase from the attic.  It was Magen.

"Come sleep with me tonight, dear," said Magen, keeping her voice low, "Gabriel's taken to doing Sarah's nightly rounds these nights.  You're lucky he hasn't given you hell for being up at this hour in your condition."

"And what are you doing up?" Nadia asked, reaching out a hand for her sister.  Magen hesitated a second before handing her the candle and grasping her other hand.

"I was waiting for you," she said simply.

Nadia knew what she meant.

"It will do us both good to have somebody in the bed with us again," she said to Magen as she turned the key to her room, "We need to get back in the practice.  Especially since Sirius and Remus are both bed-hogs."

The rest of their conversation could wait until morning it seemed, as Nadia closed and locked the door and Magen flopped herself on the bed, asleep the instant her head hit the pillow.

MEANWHILE... on the road to Gatewood House...

Sarah sent another prayer of thanks to the car gods that Derek was able to fix her truck again.  When the dear eighty-year old man had heard what she was doing, the only payment he would accept was food.  So Sarah had stayed long enough to cook him several meals, freezing most of them before she left so that he'd be well-fed for weeks.  Derek loved her cooking.  She almost smiled again when he called her his nickname for her, "Lassie-girl".  God, he was something else, that man.  A good friend and a steadfast ally, with some of the best wards in the game.  And he always seemed to know exactly when she needed him too...

A wave of dizziness took Sarah, and it was all she could muster to keep the car moving in the right lane of traffic.  She knew she'd hit her head a good one when she'd bounced it off the dashboard—yet again—while in the midst of her fourth attempt to run over a Dementor.  She'd also taken a bad hit from Goyle, who'd gotten lucky when he tackled her, putting most of his considerable weight behind his punch.  It had been a last-ditch effort to keep her from throwing a killing curse at Lucius Malfoy, and they both knew it.  The bastard had broken her cheekbone and popped her jaw out of its socket. 

_But he won't be doing much of anything these days_, she thought grimly, _Can't really go popping people off when you're six feet fucking under._  There was no satisfaction for her.  It was merely what had to be done.  Too soon there would be far too many events out of her sphere of control.  It would fall to others... others who didn't understand; who couldn't possibly do anything more than shoot into the darkness surrounding them and hope to hell they hit something. 

_Harry will be waking up soon_, she thought with a tinge of lightness.  It almost hurt.  _Harry will be waking up soon, and then..._

_... and then we'll have to pray to God that Dumbledore won't hold us against him.  _

_I'm trying Lily,_ she thought, slightly sad for a moment, _I'm trying...  we're all breathing a little bit easier.  We'll be a family again, just like it used to be.  You'd be proud of him, Lily..._

Her throat constricted suddenly, and she wheezed out a coughing fit.  She spit out blood.  She had managed enough healing spells to heal the worst of the damage, but for some reason, healing magic never worked quite well on her family.  It never worked just the way it was supposed to; healing the injury _most_ of the way, but not _completely_.  Hence, she and her blood relatives preferred to heal slowly by Muggle methods.  Sarah often used a combination of the two realms of medicine. 

Against what she knew to be better judgment, Sarah rummaged through the glove compartment and swallowed some pain pills dry.  She lit up the second last cigarette of her third pack.  She had two more packs left.  Blowing the smoke out the open window, she felt herself getting dizzy and tired again.  She finished off the last of her vodka and caffeine, which had gone warm by now.  Her lower lip split and started bleeding again.  She sucked on it absently, snubbing the remnant of the steamy dream she'd had the last time she'd grabbed some sleep before it even planted itself into her head, and switched on the radio.

She frowned when she realized that the Dementor attacks were getting closer to some of her safe-houses than she liked.  _Damn, more time off my ass_, she grumbled in her head, _and I really need a shower.  Gods I stink.  _

_Oh hells... not another damned drunk driver... yeah, yeah, asshole—fuck you too.  Y tu Mama tambien!_

She sighed heavily, and cursing under her breath, she took the next exit and turned the car around. 

She just couldn't leave Arabella Figg in the open like that.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Sorry that took so long.  I've gotten some hits... but come on guys!  Review me!  Let me know what you're thinking... whether I'm too slow, too complicated, if I should focus more on Gatewood House or Hogwarts... I mean, you guys breathe, right?  So then you have opinions.  Let me know what they are! 

By the way... check out my non-fanfiction stuff at www.fictionpress.net where I have all of my REAL Gatewood House stories.  Hopefully, one day, they'll be anthologized into a book!   


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